


Koi no Yokan

by robotfvckers



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alley Sex, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Fantasizing, Hero Worship, M/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sentai Genji Shimada, Wall Sex, valveplug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:39:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotfvckers/pseuds/robotfvckers
Summary: Zenyatta is Green Sentai's biggest fan, and he's more than eager to prove it during a fateful encounter.





	Koi no Yokan

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for mujaween on tumblr. Hope you enjoy! ;3c

The first time Zenyatta sees him on the news, gleaming green and proud, he is doomed. Zenyatta devours all his streams and promo vids in two days, collects every gachapon and limited release exclusive that money and dedication can afford in the following months. He spends his savings on a ticket to an autograph event thousands of miles away in Hanamura, the hometown of his idol: Green Sentai.

He arrives early, but the line rounds the bustling city block hours ahead of the event. By the time he nears the front, he only catches a flash of his idol slipping past the crowd, waving as everyone explodes into cheers. Mondatta was right: it was foolish to come, to hope for the chance to meet him. At least he got to travel and see new sights. Dreaming would have to be enough.

Zenyatta does not notice the group of men parting the crowd until he knocks shoulders with one.

“Watch where you’re going, omnic!”

“Don’t you know who we are?” The man, huge and stony-looking, grabs his arm. “That fuckin’ hurt. Aren’t you gonna apologize?”

“I am sorry.” Zenyatta says, synth rising as the men, four in total, surround him, each bigger than the last, shoving him into the nearby alleyway.

“You’re gonna be.” One of them barks, almost sending Zenyatta to the filthy stone with a hard shove.

It happens quickly. He fights, knocks one out cold with a well-placed kick, but another snarls and charges him while a hand finds his throat, metal groaning beneath his grip.

The blow never lands.

A flash of green registers in his optics, nearly quicker than he can track. The men swear, forced a few yards back, outpaced by such movements, a chartreuse blur to human eyes. They collect their fallen companion and flee, curses echoing behind them.

His processes shudder. It could not be—

“Are you alright?”

A warm timbre that he could place anywhere rumbles into his sensors. His helmet reflects his own array, glowing in the low light.

“Y-yes.” Zenyatta manages, synth glitching on the single word.

Shorter than he thought, but it enhances his charm, the same confident stature that he had in the videos seems unbelievable in front of him.

“I…” A quiet chirp escapes as his idol tilts his head. “I am a…huge fan.”

“Oh! Well, thank you! One of the event goers, right?”

Zenyatta can hear his smile. No one’s ever seen his face, but he knows it must be as wonderful as the rest of him.

“Yes. I…” Zenyatta scrambles for his bag. Green Sentai chuckles, vibrant but kind, and he nearly drops his holopad. “Would you?”

“Of course. What’s your name?”

“Zenyatta.”

He cannot help but stare, recording each and every motion he makes, his vitals, his height, how his armor shifts over his arms and follows the pleasing ‘v’ of his waist. In mere moments, Green Sentai would be off again. Fate without destiny.

“Zenyatta, huh? Cute name. Did you travel far to get here?”

He barely registers what Green Sentai says after that. Steam bursts from his chassis, the noise startling Green Sentai into silence. The man’s heart rate upticks, body heating in Zenyatta’s sensors.

“I...um, that’s quite flattering. H-here.” Green Sentai extends his holopad back to him.

_Break the limit, Zenyatta! - Green Sentai ☆_

It’s pathetic. Shameful.

It’s his only chance.

He reaches for the holopad, but his servos encircle Green Sentai’s wrist instead.

Green Sentai _stills_ , vitals registering high and warm when he lets the holopad clatter to the ground, replaced by the texture of Zenyatta’s hexagonal core, near hot to the touch.

Zenyatta is strong, but so is Green Sentai. He doesn’t pull away, breath hissing through his helmet as Zenyatta leads his hand down the thin support struts of his waist, another hiss of steam, quieter this time. A small, hurt noise catches in Green Sentai’s throat as his palm dips into Zenyatta’s loose pants, settling against the overclocked heat of his modesty panel.

“Please, I…” Zenyatta’s array flickers, and he covers it with his free hand, unable to record Green Sentai’s vitals skyrocketing as he... _propositions_ him. “Let me… repay you.”

It’s cheesy, and he winces, but what else can he do? Beg? Admit that he’s teased his wires, upgraded his chassis for human interfacing, just to fantasize about this very situation?

“I…” Green Sentai murmurs, lost. “I can’t. Not for… payment.”

He’s a fool, such a pathetic creature, to yearn like he does, desperation surging through each circuit.

“Please. I have always—” Zenyatta startles, voice clipping as his hips stutter forward.

Green Sentai’s hand twitches against the seams of his panel, needy already, staining white gloves teal with his shame.

“Please.” Zenyatta whispers.

Green Sentai is too kind, must pity him because he leans in, mumbling against the side of his faceplate.

“H-how do I open it?”

* * *

It’s a mad scramble after that, Zenyatta’s pants hanging off one leg, Green Sentai’s gloved fingers gliding through the copious fluid leaking out of him in an embarrassing rush. The man’s helmet hisses and snaps back, revealing a strong chin and soft, rosy lips, half-parted with his quickened breath. He tugs a damp, stained glove off with his teeth, and Zenyatta groans, shaking with the thought of those teeth on him, marking him up, catching against his wires. Then thick, rough fingers stroke through the mess between his thighs, parting, _inspecting_ , and Green Sentai swears.

The wall bites into Zenyatta’s back, but he barely registers it, not when his ankles lock behind Green Sentai’s waist and he supports him so easily while sinking pearly teeth into his lower lip, moaning and pressing between his own thighs, armor receding with a few clicks.

Zenyatta chirrups, astounded by the hard line of his cock, sweaty and dampened at the tip, how it bobs when Green Sentai tugs it through the slit of his boxers.

“O-oh.” The immediate need to touch shocks through his servos. His cock looks thick, more substantial than his own fingers, swollen and dripping over barely receded foreskin. The fleshy tip gingerly brushes against his node, and Zenyatta tosses his head, clinging to Green Sentai’s shoulders.

“I’m going to put it in now.”

The words seem far off, whispery like a dream, every sense focused on the blunt, even press of his cock baring down. Zenyatta hadn’t properly tried it out, maybe he should’ve asked someone else to, maybe he would be bad at—

Hesitance rushes from his mind as he’s breached, synth ragged at the first gentle push, sensors onlining and recalibrating in a harsh burst of feedback. Distantly he hears Green Sentai’s own deep grunts — _oh,_ fuck, _you’re tight, damn_ — exhaled into his shoulder. Zenyatta moans as he recedes, but he only jostles Zenyatta higher on the wall, feeding him every inch of his cock until he’s sheathed completely, trembling, cramming Zenyatta full. His helmet clinks against Zenyatta’s shoulders, just holding still, holding _him_.

“Are you—”

“Y-yeah, I just—” Green Sentai breathes, the sound tightening Zenyatta’s entire body. “Never done this with an omnic before.”

Zenyatta makes a small noise.

“It feels incredible.” Each syllable feels like a touch against his most sensitive wiring. He squeezes Green Sentai against him, arms a vice around his shoulders.

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, just rolls his hips, array flaring as Green Sentai starts to fuck him. Smooth and even, and soon the sounds of slick gushing around Green Sentai’s cock joins their quiet, needy whimpers captured in the crook of the other’s neck, muffled by the din of the city a few yards away. He wants to record it, the wet smacks of Green Sentai sinking inside him, watching his fat cock disappear and withdraw again and again, coated with his teal, but he can barely keep his array focused, drowning in it, in the teeth at his neck, the arm beneath his thigh keeping him steady, Green Sentai’s hand tracing the strut at his hip, lower, stroking a calloused thumb over the apex of his valve.

“W-wait, I will—I’m—!!” Zenyatta babbles, crackling into binary.

“Yeah, come on my cock.”

He circles the aching node in time to his thrusts, and it’s too much; the first ricochet of pleasure overloads him, powerful waves that offline and shut down primary systems for a few seconds, valve clutching and sucking at the cock inside him, resetting around it. He clutches his voice box as Green Sentai snaps his hips, fucking him harder and deeper, madly now in his final seconds, and it should be impossible, but he can feel his cock _pulsing_ , coating his insides, his deepest sensors, flooding him, swollen and molten. Steam condenses on chrome and armor alike as Zenyatta cools, thoughts slow and hazy, aftershocks powerful enough to make him chirp, even as Green Sentai withdraws, staring between their bodies.

He hears him swallow as Green Sentai watches creamy teal leak from his abused valve, groaning high and hard as he pushes back in, meeting no resistance, the squelch of it shocking now that Zenyatta can allocate power to hear it. He repeats the motion a few times, languid and unbelieving, working every last tremble from Zenyatta’s body, mesmerized by the sight.

He catches his breath as he drags his cock a final time across his swollen valve, then slowly sets him down, a steadying hand on his waist as each foot touches the pavement.

“You okay?” He whispers, chagrin, hoarse.

Zenyatta’s array flickers.

“Yes.” He cannot hide the raspy tremor to his voice.

Thoughts slowly begin filtering through his processors. He expects Green Sentai to back away and escape into the night, that doing such a thing with a stranger in a public place, wearing his uniform no less, was a mistake.

Instead, Green Sentai unravels his scarf, gently blotting the mess between his legs. The way his mouth moves as he laughs, self-deprecating and so painfully real, makes his processes rush all over again.

“I... came a lot. Sorry.” Green Sentai smiles weakly. “It...well, since becoming Green Sentai, it’s been...hard to find time for stuff like this.”

“No, it is...it felt incredible.”

Green Sentai’s smile brightens, and oh, Zenyatta _hurts_ , having it directed at him. He finishes wiping them clean, gingerly tucking himself back into his boxers, and he almost looks just as he did before, sans scarf, glove only slightly mussed, heroic and pristine. He chucks the filthy accessory into a pile of trash several feet away.

“My name’s Genji.” He rubs the back of his neck, and Zenyatta wonders if he will ever get used to seeing Green Sentai, _Genji_ , and not feeling thunderstruck.

“Listen. How long are you planning to stay in Hanamura?”


End file.
